A good-sized rock seemed like a bolder. Multiple snow trails formed through the tall trees. At the end a little rock wall surrounded a ditch. It looked like white trees with the amount of snow that covered them. With a simple gust of wind it seemed like winter wonderland. Snow angels that were previously made were behind us indented into the ice-cold ground. This is what I saw every day of winter during my childhood. Fast sledding trails. To go through one of these fast trails, first sliding through prickly bushes were necessary, and then you’d hit the real mountain. That’s what it was to me, a mountain.

Wearing a colorful bright jacket filled with highlighter greens and pinks, I would beg and plead for Dan, my brother, to go down on one of the sleds with me. I was annoying, but with this characteristic I got what I wanted. Down again and again we went. He made me go in the front, so that I would be the one with a snow-covered face. In my opinion he did it for that reason, but he would always try to cover it up with, “I weigh more we’ll go faster if I’m in the back.” My favorite sled was the red one; I knew it was the fastest. Dan preferred the blue one, where Nick always enjoyed the snow tube. My brother Nick was the best at sledding. For some reason he always cruised down, and didn’t end up looking like big foot when he hit the end. Dan always whined about how he could beat him down the snow course, but would always fall short of this task. The three of us, Nick, Dan and I were never inside during these perfect snow conditions. Numb fingers and toes were always cured with a glass of hot chocolate.

The days usually started with snow angels or snowmen, then ended with hours of sledding. We called the trails we made different names. The names changed depending on if the snow was good and slick or not. “This trail should be called black diamond, due to the speed that we get off it.” Dan always came up with the perfect names for the trails; they were often unique and fit each one perfectly.

My least favorite moment happened one afternoon on a fairly decent winter day. My brothers and I decided we were going to go down outside to sled. Over delighted with this idea I quickly gathered my hat, mittens, snow pants, jacket and boots together. I got dressed in these items much faster then my older siblings and ran out of the door to claim my favorite sled. I had gone down our hill multiple times before I realized they still weren’t out here. “Are they ditching me?” I wondered. With this in mind I continued sledding. After a few more times down dodging trees, I thought of the perfect idea. “If they aren’t going to come play with me then I am going to wait long enough so they feel bad and come to find me.”At the time this seemed like a pretty good thought. I was wrong. After almost two hours of waiting around making little forts and snowmen is when I surrendered. They weren’t coming any time soon to play. With my head to my feet and my fingers and toes tingling, I slowly walked to my house to go inside. Inside were my two brothers sitting on the couch playing Mario Cart. At the time Dan was 9 and Nick was 10. In unison, they both look up at me with a smirk and asked, “How’s the weather?” The look on their faces was as if they were so proud that they have been thinking up this idea the whole time I was outside. Which, knowing them they had been. I responded to this wise remark by storming with teary eyes to find my mom to tattle on them.

This is how I solved my problems, by tattling and looking innocent. This system worked for me and that’s all that matters. Now a day I don’t tell, because I simply don’t feel the need for it. Depending on the situation, revenge is sometimes necessary, and that is what came next for my brothers. The next day when my brother Nick was at a friend’s house, Dan asked me if I wanted to go sledding. My answer was simply a yes, but I repaid him with what he had done to me. Rather than just sitting inside waiting for him to come in, I locked the door, keeping him from coming back inside to the warm heat.